


the real me and you

by alderations



Series: Whumptober/Mechtober 2020 [20]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Bombs, Gen, Mechtober, Robot Body Horror, Surgery, War, Whumptober 2020, field medicine, just the rose reds being bewildered by the toy soldier, this is ALMOST fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations
Summary: The squadron has long since decided that there’s something up with this halfling, the one that never turns down an order and moves like a clockwork figurine. It’s a fantastic fighter, though, so no one questions it—not its bizarre patterns of speech, or its extremely fake mustache, or its penchant for shiny bits and bobs from any uniform it can get its hands on. When it ends up in the path of yet another wayward IED, a half-dozen of its Rose Red comrades rush to its side to assess the damage.(Whumptober Day 20: field medicine; Mechtober Day 19-21: OUATIS)
Relationships: Rose Reds & The Toy Soldier
Series: Whumptober/Mechtober 2020 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950916
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	the real me and you

The squadron has long since decided that there’s something up with this halfling, the one that never turns down an order and moves like a clockwork figurine. It’s a fantastic fighter, though, so no one questions it—not its bizarre patterns of speech, or its extremely fake mustache, or its penchant for shiny bits and bobs from any uniform it can get its hands on. When it ends up in the path of yet another wayward IED, a half-dozen of its Rose Red comrades rush to its side to assess the damage.

The smoke clears, and they realize with a start that its head has been blown clean off.

Silence blankets their tiny corner of the battlefield for a long moment, while they study the sparking, splintered cables where the Toy Soldier’s spinal column should be. The Roses don’t move. Then, over the distant sound of gunfire still raging downhill, its voice pipes up. “Well, My Dear Girls,” it chirps, “It Seems I’ve Got Myself In A Bit Of A Pickle!”

Old Rosie gawks at it, all her hardened bravado stripped away. “Now, an arm is one thing,” she says gruffly. “But you really ought to be dead after losing your  _ head.” _

“I Haven’t Lost It. I’m Right Here, See! Hello!”

One of the youngest soldiers reaches out with a tentative hand and grabs its braid, dyed deep auburn in a poor imitation of the Rose Reds’ own hair color. When she picks it up, the Toy Soldier giggles. “What _are_ you?” she asks.

It pretends to contemplate the question, its arms moving as if to put a hand on its chin, only to find that its face isn’t where it should be. “Well, I’ve Told You All That I’m A Toy Soldier. I Am Simply Made Of Clockwork!”

“You’re… not biological. At all.” Old Rosie leans over the shoulder of the younger Rose, squinting at the shards of lacquered wood jutting from its ruined neck. “Is that  _ wood?” _

“I Did Tell You So, My Good Chum.”

A sardonic grin finally breaks across Old Rosie’s face. “Maybe today’s the day I’ll finally believe you. If you’re still alive, then, can we… fix you?”

The Rose Reds are loyal to one another, being of the same mind in so many ways, and they’ve never been above a bit of field surgery, especially on a soldier as valuable as this one. But this is the first time that any of them have tried to reassemble an exploded clockwork toy at all, much less on a muddy hillside in the middle of an active war zone. Old Rosie holds its head in the crook of her elbow and chats with it, keeping it distracted from the pain it pretends to feel and passing on instructions when the rest of the Roses aren’t sure what to do next. It’ll need a fresh coat of paint after they’re done, but that’s a worry for a later date.

They start by locating every scrap of wood and clockwork that they can find, then lay them out on top of the Toy Soldier’s discarded jacket as they set to work finding where the pieces match up with its body. The cogs and gears of its inner workings snap back into place with relative ease, but the wood is more difficult; the Toy Soldier gives enthusiastic directions for every individual piece, while the Roses hold slivers of wood together until its mechanism can fuse them back into place. It takes several hours to get to the point of reattaching its head, and by then, Old Rosie is getting fairly sick of its chipper voice droning on in her ear.

She sets its head down adjacent to the stump of its neck with equal parts reverence and annoyance, then turns to the dwindling pile of pieces next to its body. “Alright. What’s next?”

“Joining The Wires Would Be Most Useful, I Believe!”

It only has a few wires, taking the place of a spinal cord, and the Rose Reds watch in rapt confusion as the outer fibres knit themselves back together once they’re placed adjacent to the frayed ends poking out of its neck. Old Rosie prods the cables aside with gentle fingers, looking for the next piece to connect, and makes contact with something horribly squishy. “Is that… I thought you said you  _ weren’t  _ biomechanical.”

“Ah! You Must Have Found My Voice!”

A younger Rose gets down on all fours and cranes her neck to stare up into the carnage of the Toy Soldier’s throat. “Is it a voice box? Why would you have a human voice box?”

The Toy Soldier laughs, a tinkling sound that makes the Roses’ hair stand on end. “Not A Voice Box, Silly Bean! Just A Voice!” It lowers said voice to a conspiratorial whisper, peeking around at its observers to see how they react. “I  _ Stole  _ It!”

After that day, they don’t ask the Toy Soldier many questions anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok ok ok ok I never cared that much about OUATIS, was never that attached to the characters, but I just read all the album fictions for it and I've come full circle. I'm fucking obsessed. I care all of them now. I know this isn't all that different from the last TS & Rose Reds fic I wrote, but it was past time for some more good ol' robot body horror and I love the idea of TS ending up in so so many armies where everyone around it is like *what the fuck is this thing.* And it's just happy to be there!
> 
> Also I personally hc that the Toy Soldier didn't take anything physical from the Angel, just like... a metaphorical representation of their voice ig? But I couldn't say no to a lil body horror.
> 
> in other news... hope you enjoyed etc etc leave a comment if you so desire etc etc I'm posting this before ELEVEN tonight go me. yeehaw. we're 2/3 of the way through, folks. I can do this g;dkghk;kf


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